


all i have is you, and that's all i'll ever need.

by liberateme



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anger, Arguing, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frustrated Louis, Happy Ending, Jealousy, M/M, Player Harry, Romance, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:19:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liberateme/pseuds/liberateme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You might think; 'oh wow, a kiss in the rain. How boringly cliché.' Louis doesn't. He likes everything about it- the simplicity, the intimacy- and something else.<br/>The realisation that maybe- just maybe- that he's not alone in this fucked-up reality. He's got Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all i have is you, and that's all i'll ever need.

**Author's Note:**

> i have to thank everybody who read my last fanfic, or left a comment, i really wasn't expecting that kind of support. it's crazy, and i really appreciate it. :)  
> i know a couple of people were asking me to write a sequel, and maybe i will, but i think it's a bit early. i got this idea in my head, and it refused to leave until i'd written it down.  
> so here it is, a sweet fluff larry fanfic. warning: some angst in it, at the beginning, but nothing triggering.

Louis knows there's no reason to feel jealousy. Harry's being Harry; the cheeky, flirtatious charmer he's always been. It's one of the reasons Louis fell in love with him. That, and Harry's determination to win his heart made it difficult to resist. His attempts- though feeble and futile at first- had Louis feeling sympathy for the boy, which later on developed into something more. A feeling he couldn't deny, and was forced to accept. A feeling he later on understood to be 'love'. Odd, really. A boy like Louis would find someone like Harry- a troublemaker, one who broke hearts, and never had his broken- and experience it with _him._ But, Louis discovered, Harry was the missing jigsaw piece to the puzzle that was his life. He slotted in easily, filling the gap that had always been there before him.

A year on, and their relationship's only grown and strengthened, a bond between two young boys who fool themselves they're madly in love, and don't need anybody else. As long as they have each other. Maybe they're idiots. Foolish idiots who kid themselves they'll spend the rest of their lives together, bound together by something so simple as love, that they hope will be powerful to never break. So, yes, maybe Louis' being ridiculous. But if he had his pick of people in the world, he knows nobody he'd rather be ridiculous with, than Harry.

Mulling this all over in his head, Louis knows he's overreacting. But the scene in front of his eyes- it's sickening. Harry may be oblivious to what's happening, but Louis can read the subtext, like a script in his head. He sees the subtle touches, the tinkly laugh of the cashier, or the big doe eyes she bats at Harry. She's playing a game here, and she's doing it skilfully. He narrows his eyes, sending silent warnings to her. He knows it's jealousy that bubbles in the pit of his stomach, rises up to form a lump in his throat he can't swallow down. He knows it's jealousy that coaxes out the threatening thoughts ringing out in his mind, but he really can't help it. Not when he's managed to hold someone like Harry on for so long- and seeing someone shamelessly flirt with him- brings out the protective side of him. It's always been there, a small piece of self-doubt, embedded inside of him. Speculates how long he'll have Harry for, before he moves on and leaves Louis behind, on his own again. The thought's always haunted him, and seeing Harry with the blatantly-obvious bimbo of a girl, aggravates it. At the sight of a woman's hands on what's rightfully _his,_ a growl's ripped from his throat, animalistic and low.

Harry clearly hears it, turning his head to raise a dark eyebrow at Louis, almost challenging. Blonde Cashier #1 simpers at him, hands 'accidently' brushing against his chest, and Louis can't bear to watch anymore. He steers his gaze away from Blondie, pawing at him like some desperate female in heat. He has to get out of here, leave before he does something he knows he'll regret terribly.

"I'll see you later, Harry," he mutters, loud enough for the curly-haired grinning demon to hear him. When Louis spins on his heel, he doesn't see Harry's stare at his retreating back, or the flicker of hurt in his eyes. He doesn't see Harry's gulp, and his apology to the cashier as he rushes after Louis, long limbs a blur.

Louis' never seen what's always been there, right in front of his eyes. He never does.

-

"Lou! Lou, wait up!" Louis doesn't turn around. Instead, he slows to a stop, forcing his eyes to stare up at the sky above him, gathering storm clouds shielding the sunlight. In the bright light, his eyes ache and his hands are numbed from the cold. He knows a storm is on its way, and remaining here isn't advisable. He doesn't want to be sensible, or careful. He wants to stand here, let his anger brew over, and let the sharp pain prick him all over, making invisible marks on his body.

Louis hears the unmistakable slap of Harry's shoes against the pavement, footsteps growing in volume and distance. He groans, his irritation strong. He doesn't _want_ to speak to Harry right now, he's not in the mood. As a matter of fact, he's a little pissed off, having seen his _boyfriend_ allow a woman to physically grope him. He doesn't bother to think rationally, or logically- he only wants to seethe about it, adding fuel to the fire.

" _Please._ " Harry's call comes out as a whine, and Louis' face softens. Sure, he currently has the urge to cause his boyfriend bodily harm- although he never would, Harry's got a fair few inches on him- Harry still deserves Louis to listen to him. No matter how angry, it's always been something Louis values the most: respect.

Inhaling a deep breath to calm down his frenzied thoughts, he relaxes his body, unclenching his fists- but keeping his teeth gritted. He has to release his anger in _some_ way, he's no saint. He remembers occasions in the past where he's kept his anger stored up inside him, bubbling away- and it's never ended well. In fact, in this relationship, he's probably the closest they have to a saint; and Harry's always been the sinner. With his startingly-green eyes, dimples and charm, from the beginning Louis had made a promise to himself to 'stay away from that boy' (he didn't succeed). Harry didn't exactly have the cleanest track record, full of black marks and heartbreaks. Louis had wondered if that's all Harry's flings were to him, names written on a list, now scratched out in ink. Not people. But you forgive those you love, and forget past mistakes, there was no point dwelling on them.

"Thank God," Harry huffs, chest heaving as he reaches Louis, face flushed with effort. "I thought you were going to leave me back there, Lou."

Louis has to close his eyes, count each breath he takes and count to ten, to calm him down. Because honestly, at times Harry's almost too much. He wants to scream at Harry until his throat becomes raw, sore with the effort, make him _see_ how much he's hurt Louis. How paranoid and distrustful Louis is the majority of the time due to _him._ It's all Harry's fault. He'd never been this desperate for someone's attention and love, as he had for Harry's. Once he had a taste of what Harry's kisses and touches had in store for him, he didn't want to give up the Cheshire boy's affection, and have to go back to lonely nights and cold winter mornings alone.

He wants to make Harry _see-_ really see- how painful loving him can be. If he's honest, he does ponder whether Harry can see himself and _think_ about what he does, when he's flirting harmlessly (or so he _says,_ Louis doesn't believe him) with another person, while Louis' standing beside him, helpless. Blondie today was the last straw. Louis refuses to let Harry affect him anymore. He either wants a committed boyfriend he can trust, or it's "Goodbye Harry, we had a good run but you're a dick".

If he could put his tangled web of thoughts into coherent sentences, he would. Unfortunately the mixed emotions he has for Harry are taking presidence, and there's no space to do anything else, but _feel._ So he settles for: "Just leave me be, Harry."

The grin on Harry's face falters, and Louis knows he shouldn't feel glad for upsetting him, but he _does._ He needs Harry to experience what he goes through. "Lou..." He tries, but Louis cuts him short. He won't let Harry try to _charm_ his way into forgiveness, as he always has up until this point. He's not going to forgive and forget easily. Louis' been too lenient, too careful to spare his boyfriend's feelings, that he's seemingly forgotten his own. This time, _he_ gets to be the selfish one.

"No, Harry. No fucking 'Lou, please' and I'll just forgive you. Because I fucking _won't._ Now leave me alone." He spits, and Harry's face is washed with guilt, before hardening. Louis sees it, flash in his eyes. It's reassuring to know Harry still has _some_ humanity when it comes to other's feelings.

"Fine. Fucking  _fine._ If you want to be that way, then fine! I'll just go." But Louis catches his wrist as he turns to leave, because his thoughts are a rush of _no you fucking can't Styles, not this time._ It becomes a mission for him, something that encourages him to stay strong and ignore Harry's looming body over his, not crumble weakly.

"Oh no you don't. You're not fucking leaving until I fucking say so." Profanities tumble out of his mouth quickly, like Louis' become so accustomed to conveying his thoughts and feelings through swear words. "I want you to apologise, first. To me."

Harry faces him, tense, threateningly. "What for?"

Louis' eyes flash, with something dark in them. "You know _exactly_ what for."

"No. I don't."

Harry's tone is taunting, and it almost pushes Louis over the edge, into a dark abyss he knows he'll never return from. How _dare_ he act like he has no clue. Like he had no idea what it was doing to Louis. Both boys are locked in some silent battle, gazes unwavering as they stare at each other. Darkened considerably from earlier, Harry meets Louis face-on. And it infuriates him, the nerve Harry has to act as if he's not in the wrong here.

But Louis can't be strong forever. He blinks, blue eyes flicking away from Harry, fraught not to make eye contact again. The atmosphere's intense, thick with silence and emotions that buzz around them, echoing voices in his head that won't leave, no matter what. He realises they're his insecurities, brought up from where they were buried deep inside of Louis, stronger than ever before.

_'You're just wasting your time...You know Harry's going to leave eventually. It's only a matter of time.'_

_'You think he wants to be with_ **you**? _The pathetic, worthless boy who nobody cares about? Please. Give the kid some credit._ '  
  
When Louis speaks again, cutting smoothly through the heavy silence, his voice is a choked sob. "Leave, Harry. Please."

And just like that, whatever pent-up reperessed anger they held for each other, was gone. Evaporated quickly, like a frozen sheet of ice. Harry can't bear to see Louis cry, and Louis? Well, he can't keep up the pretence of normality, any longer. _I'm not okay._ The one sentence echoing in his head reassures him, just a tad. Like acceptance is the first thing he needs to do, before he can be repaired from how badly Harry's fucked him up. His insides feel torn. His whole body aches, complains, but it's nothing- _nothing-_ compared to what's going on in his head. _  
_

Even Louis doesn't know anymore. He can't keep up with the fast-paced flow of it all.

"Just go," he mutters, to a speechless Harry. For once.

But the answer's one word, and simple enough for Louis to understand: "No."

Neither of them have noticed how dark it's gotten, storm clouds blocking out any sunlight that tries to filter through, the rumble of thunder alerting them there's a storm ahead. There's the light patter of rain, the first few drops hitting their skin, before another rumble and Louis knows it's not going to be a quick five-minute affiair, barely affecting them. A thunderstorm's on its way, and already Louis can see the rainfall increasing, light drops of rain turning into hail stones.

Before he knows it, it's hailing heavily, lightning flashes across the sky and they're caught in the middle of a thunderstorm. By now, anyone with any common sense has quickly escaped, making a run for it. Louis and Harry stand there, refusing to say a single word. One's waiting for the other to crack under the pressure, and apologise. This isn't the first time they've locked horns. There's been a number of arguments, and frequent. Not to say either _enjoy_ it- but sometimes dating a person who's so different to you in personality and behaviour can have consequences, as Louis' discovered.

The longer they stand here; the more soaked they'll become. Louis knows the logic, and he's pretty sure Harry does, too. But does he really _want_ to move? No. He sees this as standing his ground, for all those times he's given into another.

"You don't get it, do you?" Louis speaks first. "What you _do_ to me. God, I fucking gave my _heart_ to you- knowing you'd probably trample it, leave it on the floor- but I hoped you were different to what everybody said about you. You know what they said?" He asks Harry, rhetorically. Harry stands there, silent and sullen and probably the most dangerous Louis' ever seen him. "They said you were a fucking _player._ Boy or girl, you didn't have a preference. The equivalent of a slut." He laughs, bitter. But there's no real happiness behind it. He laughs at how foolish he was to believe otherwise. "I gave you a chance, because I _wanted_ to. I wanted to believe Harry fucking Styles had a heart, not a gap in his chest. I ignored everyone else, ignored my human instinct, and went out with you. Against everything I believe, I _did it._ And now look how you repay me. I didn't have much fucking trust before, but I sure as hell don't have any now. I hope you're pleased with yourself- 'cause well done, you proved me wrong and everybody else right."

The unnerving thing is, Harry stands there listening to every word he says. There's subtle flinches and winces to words he spits out, but apart from that, little reaction. He doesn't interrupt Louis like he expected, or shout something in response.

It scares him. Louis _wants_ a reaction, he _wants_ Harry to be enraged with him, and scream at him in the pouring rain, in the middle of a thunderstorm in a store's car park, for everyone to see, and gawk. But Harry doesn't. Green eyes cold and calculated, just blink at him.

It's beginning to piss him off. "Just say something, _please_?" He begs. Down on his knees. Like a fucking toddler.

"If you think I don't fucking love you, I do." Comes the response, before Harry grabs a fistful of his shirt, and tugs him into a kiss. Nothing forceful, or rough, just a pair of lips meeting in a kiss. A softer side to Harry Louis wasn't aware _existed._ To his irritation, his body reacts to Harry automatically, hands wandering up and down the sides of Harry's soaked clothes, rain running down their skin, drizzling of their lips when they pull away.

"If you think I don't fucking _adore you,_ and everything you do drives me wild, that I'm completely- and utterly- infatuated with a boy I never thought I'd be, then you're bloody wrong, Louis William Tomlinson." There's something behind his words, something passionate and strong.

Louis' shocked. Astounded. He doesn't know what to say, gaping. Doing a pretty accurate imitation of a fish, he guesses. All he can think, stupidly, is: _Harry has a soul?  
_ And just like that, all worries fly away. Panicked thoughts banished, to a darker corner of his mind, and insecurites flipped the finger and told to kindly piss off, as Louis buried them again. Anything that held them back, disappeared. _Out of sight, out of mind._

Actions speak louder than words, Louis thinks to himself, as his hand grips the nape of Harry's neck, thumb rubbing against the soft, baby hair growing there, pulling Harry in for a kiss. It's much greedier than last time; but there's still that underlying sweetness to it, Harry exploring the inside of Louis' mouth, licking against him in a way that makes his knees tremble and his entire being melting.

He'd missed kissing Harry. It'd been a day.

When they pull away- unfortunately needing this thing known as 'air', a mixture of gases- Louis rests his forehead against Harry's, clinging to him in a tight embrace. He's shivering from the cold and damp, his clothes thoroughly drenched, and Harry's body heat provides some warmth. It might be his imagination, but Louis thinks he sees the rain ease off slightly, clouds breaking apart gradually. Then again, it _could_ be his imagination, still hurling with rain.

"C'mon," Harry breathes, tugging at Louis' sleeve. "You're absolutely freezing, we need to get you home." Louis snuggles into Harry's chest without any objection.

It's then, he realises, why he fell for Harry. Because under the reputation and high recommendations, looks and charm, there was something else there: kindness.

Plus, it's good to know, every once in a while, you're not alone in this fucked-up reality.

**Author's Note:**

> doesn't look like much, i'm sure people have written longer, but it does take a while to write these fics. i'm planning for my next one to be a sequel people highly requested, to my previous fanfic. :)  
> sorry if it got a bit heavy, i got a bit carried away. sue me.


End file.
